


Misery Loves Company

by charloeing (shipatfirstsight)



Series: angst angst and more angst [1]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Drinking, F/M, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:36:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipatfirstsight/pseuds/charloeing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow, he always knows how to find her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misery Loves Company

“Charlie!” A recognizable masculine voice yelled, quickly followed by a more feminine, but equally recognizable, one. 

She heard the yelling, had heard her mother and uncle yelling for her for hours it seemed. Yet she couldn’t quite bring herself to respond. Every time she was about to, something stopped her. Maybe it was the tears that fought to surface every time she dared to open her lips in response. 

She leaned her back against the tree trunk, and brought the bottle of stolen liquor back to her mouth.

Absently, she wondered where Bass was. It had taken her a long time, and the eventual death of Connor, to take to calling him that. There was something about commiserating, though, that made it hard to see someone as a monster. 

When you saw someone at their weakest point, it was easier to see why they acted the way they did. It made it harder to hate them when they did the terrible things that they did.

She wasn’t sure, even with their newfound understanding, though, that she wanted to see him today.

It wasn’t even personal. She didn’t want to see anyone today. Not Miles, Rachel, or Bass.

If she looked in their eyes, she was afraid she might see the ghost of Danny before her. She didn’t know if she could face the unspoken judgment in her mother’s eyes.

You weren’t ever supposed to let go of his hand.

And she didn’t want to think about that. She missed him, so much sometimes (another thing she didn’t want to think about). More and more, it was easier to live day to day without the brother who she had once seen as an extension of herself; joined at the hip, her father used to joke (when he’d died she’d felt more pain than when they’d branded the M on her wrist; it felt like someone was carving off a part of her, a vital part of her). Then, there were days like today. Days where when she woke up it felt like someone was stabbing her heart. Repeatedly. With a dull blade.

Maybe that’s why she didn’t want to see anyone. She’d have to admit that she’d almost obsessively counted the dates. In the beginning, she couldn’t afford to stalk off on her own as every month anniversary passed by. And so maybe she’d taken it out on the guys that they came up against. Maybe she put a little more anger into killing them.

She didn’t like that part of herself.

But then now, now she was forced to actually deal with Danny’s death, and she didn’t want to take it out on any of the people with her. They were hiding in some god forsaken forest, had been for weeks now, and the dates happened to coincide with a rather horrible day.

Shots ringing out as she hoped against hope that they had missed that Danny’s body hadn’t been shot down.

Two years.

It was hard to believe how much had happened in two years. So much had changed, so much still needed to be changed.

But that could wait.

Today, she drank.

It was best that no one be around her, at least not now. She didn’t know if she could deal with them either not knowing what the day was and why she was so upset, or them trying to comfort her.

She wasn’t sure that she deserved their comfort.

Charlie had often wondered if her mother blamed Bass for Danny’s death only to avoid blaming her daughter.

She knew that she blamed herself often enough.

Miles was different. She worried about a lot of things with Miles. But a part of her wondered if he was mad that she drug him out of his comfortable life to find her brother, only for that brother to die.

She should have protected him more, stopped him from getting the gun, run in front of him and taken the bullets herself….

Then there was Bass. She wondered if he blamed himself still for Danny’s death. If that miserable, guilty look that seemed so out of place on his face would appear once more, and then she’d feel even more guilt for putting it there. Or shame for showing weakness in front of him. 

So lost was she to her thoughts that she didn’t notice the extra body that was then in the tree with her until a heavy hand fell on her shoulder. She turned her head slightly, ready to kick whoever’s ass it was who dared to bother her and then get back to her misery, but what met her sight was the face of the man she’d just been thinking about. Her body relaxed instantly, and she leaned back against the tree.

He left his hand on her shoulder, never questioning, only passing her a new bottle of alcohol when hers ran out.

That was when the tears came. They streaked silently down her cheeks; she still did not want him to know, even if she found that she was glad for his presence. 

Imagine her surprise, then, when his other hand came to rest on her other shoulder, lifted her body up, and placed her on his lap on his branch instead of hers.

She was facing him now, and instead of the pity or guilt or scorn she'd feared she'd find there, all she saw was an understanding sort of sadness in his eyes. It made her cry all the more, her shoulders shaking, and great sobbing gasps coming out of her mouth. "How did you find me?"

"Oh, Charlotte." He sighed as he tugged her to his chest, holding her against him. "I knew what I'd want to do if I wanted to be alone in this place so I figured I'd start there."

"If you'd told me two years ago that the President of the Republic---"

"Former President." He interrupted to correct her, but she heard both the relief and the smile in his voice that she was able to tease him again.

"Whatever. If someone had told me Sebastian Monroe would be comforting me, I would have laughed in their face."

"Yeah, well, don't expect me to make a habit of it." They both heard the lie, though.

More and more, it was clear that he'd do whatever he felt he needed to for her.

Instead of admitting that, though, he switched courses. "You ready to go back now?" 

She thought for a moment. Was she ready to face life just yet? Not quite; not with the comforting strength and warmth she found in Bass' arms. So Charlie merely shook her head no, and snuggled into his chest, sometimes sniffing away any remaining tears, but feeling for the first time that maybe moving on wasn't all that scary of a prospect.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my first Charlie/Bass fic. Let me know what you think in the comments.
> 
> Unbeta'd so if there's any mistakes let me know that too.


End file.
